//------------------------------//
// Let's Party (Octavia) 
// Story: Special Request 
// by Poetic Justice 
//------------------------------//

	This goes without saying, but I was punished rather harshly for my actions last night. After that scene with the white unicorn, my parents said that I was no longer allowed to play on stage. I had to wash dishes and clean after closing every night. I was not allowed to see the customers during business hours. Also, when I was not in school or sleeping, I had to be at work. I was lucky enough to keep my cell phone, my parents would have a heart attack if I was out of their sight and they had no way of contacting me. But yes, I was furious that I was no longer allowed to play on stage, but I understand their anger. I did make a fool of myself and of my family that night. Starting today, I was to clean the restaurant and wash dishes. 
I woke up an hour before the restaurant opens. As soon as I had full conscious thought, I took the paper with Vinyl's number on it and dialed it into my phone. I did not want to have a conversation with her, but I figured I should at least tell her not to show up if she expects me to play. Unfortunately, the last two digits were smeared. Luckily, I could still read them. If the paper was anymore rubbed, that may not have been the case. 
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"We're sorry, the number you dialed is not in service"
"That's odd." I thought to myself as I compared the number on my phone and the one written down. After typing it again, I tried calling the number.
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"We're sorry, the number you dialed is not in service."
I laughed as I tossed the phone on my bed. A fake number. A cute prank. It isn't the first time it has happened to me, stallions used to do this all the time. I didn't care. For every one fake number, I could receive ten real ones. After that, I went on my usual morning routine. I took a shower, put my bowtie on, ate some breakfast. However, before leaving, I removed my bowtie and left it in my room. If I was to be washing dishes and doing janitorial duty, there was no point in wearing it. I grabbed my saddlebag and made my way to the restaurant.
"You're late." That's with what I was greeted with as I made my way into the kitchen.
"We agreed 8:00am, that's what time it is." I responded. 
"Mom told me to remind you to get here early."
"So why didn't you?"
"I forgot."
I just brushed that comment off. It was my younger brother after all, and this was how siblings treated each other., so it is not like I was going through this alone. I went over to the sink and cleaned it out. The sink was on the far end of the kitchen, so even if I wanted to, I would have to move across the room to even see out of the window. I suppose my parents really did not want anypony to see me. My mother came into the kitchen for a few seconds. She wanted to make sure I was back there and not in the band room. After staring me down for a few seconds, the bell on the front door rang, and she started up the oven. My brother came from the break room, sketchbook in hoof, of course, and went to greet the customer. 
It did not take long before he returned to the kitchen. His face was flushed. Something happened, and I was not the only one who caught it.
"What happened?" My mother asked as he returned to the kitchen.
"Oh, um. It was that white unicorn again."
I turned the water off.
"Why is she here?"
"She asked to see Octavia play Evening Star."
"And what did you tell her?"
"That the cello player was not playing on stage here anymore."
"Good boy."
My mother went back to cooking food and my brother returned to the break room. It was around this time my sister came through the doors. She had a bag in her mouth, which she proceeded to throw onto the table next to the fridge. I could tell that her eyes were focused on me, and my suspicion was confirmed when she approached me.
"Do you know anypony named 'DJ Pon3?" She asked.
"No, I can't say that I do." 
"Somepony approached me on the way back and said that she was throwing a party at the coffee shop tonight."
"Interesting. Why are you asking me about it?"
"Because they called me by your name."
"Again?"
It was not the first time that me and my elder sister were confused for one another. We are both grey earth mares with black hair. However, if you were to actually meet us both, there are subtle differences, such as eye color and cutie marks. Unfortunately, I have no idea who this DJ is, and I am uncomfortable that they asked for me by name. After discussing it with my sister, we figured that it was somepony from university that knew me from class. It would explain the confusion, they would only see me from afar and the first grey mare with black hair they saw, they would figure it was me. 
The rest of the day was spent with the occasional customer, me staring at my phone, and my mother constantly shouting for my brother to put down his drawing pad and go greet the customers. Something interesting did happen though. About an hour before closing, my brother came into the kitchen.
"Somepony wants to hear Evening Star."
"Tell that white mare to get out." My mother told him.
"It's not her, it's a yellow stallion."
My mother looked over to me, as if I had something to do with it. She look around the room, as if trying to find something, then took in a deep breath before making eye contact with me again.
"Do you know anypony in the band that can play cello?"
I thought for a moment, nopony in the ensemble knew how to play cello exclusively, but they did have a violin player. I hoped that it would work.
"I would try the violin player."
"Good. Go fetch the violin pony and tell them to play the song for the guest. After tonight, that song will no longer be available."
My brother left, there was an uncomfortable tension in the air after that. I suspect my mother told that stallion to request the song so I could go on stage and my the cello. I would defend myself, but I have learned that it is useless trying to have a reasonable argument with my parents, especially my mother. I heard the familiar notes of Evening Star. As the song played, I couldn't help but pull my phone out and dial the number again.
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"We're sorry, but the number you dialed is not in service."
I put my phone back in my saddlebag. With a heavy sigh, I went back to washing dishes. Time flew by after I heard that song. It seemed like only minutes before my mother called for the end of the day. My siblings and parents left me to finish the dishes and clean up the restaurant. It did not take long at all for me to finish the dishes, after all, it was a very slow day. As I went to take the trash from the break room, I saw that the band was still there.
"Hey, Octavia!" They shouted in unison.
"Hello, everyone. Good day?"
"You wouldn't believe it." The eldest of the boys spoke up.
"Oh really? What happened?" I asked.
"We learned a new set, would you like to hear it?" The father picked up.
"Well, you shouldn't. It is past closing and I should be cleaning up."
"We insist!" The father said as he stood up and took his violin.
"Just listen to us as you clean." The eldest boy said as the family made their way to the stage.
"I suppose one song shouldn't hurt." I said as I took the trash to the seating area.
I started to wipe down the tables, I could hear the father pounding on the piano. It was unlike other music I was familiar with. The piano took the lead of the song, but it was accompanied with saxophone, trombone, violins, things that I would expect to hear from classical. It was a very upbeat song, but that was only the start of it. When the youngest colt, who barely spoke two words the entire length I've played with him, started singing into the microphone, I was, for lack of better words blown away. His voice was magnificent. The song lasted the duration that it took me to finish cleaning the room. When they finished, I applauded them. 
As I took the trash out, they met me around back. They wanted to say good-bye, for they were leaving the city the next morning for a few days.
"What was that music you played?" I asked.
"It's called Swing." The father said.
"I will definitely look into it. Maybe I can play it with you guys one day."
They all agreed. I don't think anypony knew this, but they hated playing classical. However, they were 
When I got home, my parents met me at the door. They were usually in bed by this time, so I immediately knew something was not right.
"Where is your sister?!" They asked me.
"I am not sure. I've been at the restaurant since you left."
"Are you sure you have no idea where she is?" They asked again.
"I assure you, I have no idea."
"I'll call the guards." My father ran inside.
"Is she really-"
"We have not seen her since we all left the restaurant. She said that she was going get something to eat, then she would meet us home." My mother interrupted.
"Anything I can do to help?" I asked.
"No, Octavia. Just...just stay in your room."
On any other night, I would raise my hoof in protest. I wasn't useless, but my family sure acted like I was sometimes. However, I at least understood this time. I pulled my phone from my saddlebag and handed it to my mom.
"Call the guard." I said.
"I already did, Octavia. Just please, let the adults handle this."
Oh no, I'm just a straight A college student, I'm not an adult at all. Still a child. 
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Breathe, Octavia. Breathe.
I hoped that my anger didn't lead to my face. I put my phone back in my saddlebag and went to my room. Once inside, I closed the door and tossed my bag onto my bed. I paced around the floor, trying to think where my sister could be. I became more anxious the more I thought about it. Knowing my sister, she could be in an alley somewhere with a stallion that flashed a bag of bits and promised everything she ever wanted. After minutes of pacing, I heard pounding on the door, followed my an exchange of voices unfamiliar to me. 
The guards are here, they will find her.
I started to calm down. I found myself eyeing my saddlebag as I held my face against the door. It kept calling my eyes, no matter how hard I tried to focus on the conversation occurring in the other room. No matter how hard I tried to focus on the conversation, I kept looking over to my saddlebag. The conversation got fainter and fainter. It was not because they started to speak more quietly, it was I found myself leaving the door and going to my bed. I dug my hoof into my saddlebag and pulled my phone out. I saw I had an unknown number. I quickly redialed it.
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"Th---Lyra---W---t---up?"
"Lyra?" I nearly shouted into the phone. "You called?"
" ---sorry Octavia! I m-- called you---sat on--bag!"
"What's that noise? It's giving me a headache from here."
"Oh!---M---Bon-bon---party! Dj. Pon3---shop----fun!"
There's that name again..
"Well, it sounds like you're having fun. Tell Sweetie Drops I said Hi."
"I w--! When---sobers up! Lat--!"
The phone clicked off. 
I kind of hoped it was her... I didn't take my eyes off my phone as I sat it on top of my bag. I went through the conversation, trying to fill in the gaps. The more I thought about it though, the larger my headache grew. I don't know what that was in the background, but it was annoying.  I dug around in my saddlebag, then pulled out that piece of paper. I dialed the number, double checking each individual number with the paper and my phone. After feeling satisfied with my seventh check, I hit "dial".
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"We're sorry, but the number you have dialed is not in service."
Are you buckin' kidding me?!